


Put away my black book.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a hard thing to deal with, seeing your crush fuck another man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put away my black book.

**Author's Note:**

> The titles of this fic and of each segment in it are taken from 31 Days.

**I’m sick of waking up on your floor.**

Fuuta has always considered himself as someone at least a million light years away from anyone else in his age group. It is not a point of arrogance for him, simply a hard fact of life – he is no normal boy, after all, not with the way he can hear the songs of stars and know everything about a man in a single look. So it follows, the fact that he talks politics and weather conditions with the adults, takes his coffee straight up and black, and does not waste his time with the games of children.

 

At that very moment, however, he feels incredibly young, young enough to want to freak out in a very undignified fashion, young enough to want to run up to his room and hide in the closet until the bombs have stopped dropping over his head. It’s not because he’s opened a door to somewhere and stumbled across two men fucking. It’s because he’s opened the door to Dino Cavallone’s office and stumbled across _Dino Cavallone_ fucking a man over his desk. And it is not just any man. It’s Hibari Kyouya, Cloud Guardian of the Vongola Family. Hibari Kyouya, the untouchable one, the best anti-crowd machine on the market. Hibari Kyouya, who’s currently bent over the top of the desk across all that paperwork and paraphernalia, cheek braised against varnished wood already fogged with condensation close to his panting lips, pinned down by the weight of the body above him and the hand crushing his wrists together above his head. Dino’s office is just two steps short of a horrific train wreck, but the man probably doesn’t care, not with the way he looks; all narrowed eyes and devilish smile as he presses down on Hibari a little further and runs his fingers down the length of the younger man’s spine. Then Dino slips two fingers into Hibari’s ass.

 

Fuuta leaves. Quickly.

 **Discreetly trying to catch attention.**

“You didn’t lock the door.”

 

“So?”

 

“That herbivore was watching us.”

 

“Kyouya, the whole world is full of herbivores to you. You’ll have to be more specific.”

 

His words earn him a fist to the jaw – or it was supposed to, except Dino’s so used to the way they communicate that his own hand goes up to catch it. Hibari Kyouya snarls, coils up into a little spring of angry before lifting himself up, away from the floor. Dino digs out his Zippo and cigarette case from his pocket, and is treated to a rather generous view of a Hibari from behind the moment he looks up. That’s his cum lining the inside of the younger man’s thighs, slick and wet in the light of his office. He sucks on the filter of the cigarette on his lips, tastes Hibari on his tongue rather than menthol.

 

“…Anyway, who are you referring to?”

 

“The ranking brat.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Dino knows he ought to feel guilty about only remembering the meeting he had scheduled with Fuuta, the Ranking King, at that moment, when it was about six hours too late to reschedule. It is difficult to regret missing out on business talks, however, when one has a gloriously naked lover in one’s office, prowling around, commandeering one’s couch.

 

“Watch the leather.”

 

And Hibari ignores him, of course, stretching out like a large hunting cat after the thrill of a kill. Dino makes a mental note to have the thing replaced. He knows exactly where that body’s been, and it wasn’t anywhere dry or clean.

 

“His attraction to you is disgusting.”

 

“Is it?”

 

Silence, then, followed by a yawn. Hibari is predatory right down to the smallest of gestures, but Dino has spent ten years too long fucking the Cloud Guardian over in every possible way to be intimidated. It is for this reason that the man eventually stands up, closing in to snag the younger man by the back of his neck and plant an almost brotherly kiss on his forehead.

 

“Are you jealous?”

 

“Cease this nonsense or I’ll bite you to death.”

 

And it’s strange how Hibari can threaten to kill him and move to kiss his mouth in the same breath, but there are many things that are strange about him, so many things that Dino has fallen out of the practice of thinking about it (it takes out half the fun of fucking him).

 

Still… Fuuta, attracted to him?

 

That was food for thought.

 

“Stop drifting, Cavallone.”

 

Or maybe not, Dino figures, as he comes back to Hibari pulling him under and on top of him, like a living and breathing blanket.

 **Her own brand of sanity.**

“You cannot stand for this, Fuuta. You should not. It is not just.”

 

He’s not entirely sure what he did to deserve this. All he wanted was a place to drown his sorrows in peace, with a near infinite amount of all the wrong kinds of food, where he could convert his grief into a glorious sugar coma. Perhaps he should have known, though, that the Vongola Estate’s kitchen was not the sort of place that he could do such a thing in, especially since the place was the regular haunt of Bianchi, the Poison Scorpion herself. And Bianchi can sniff out love problems the way sharks could smell blood in the water.

 

Fuuta will never say this to anyone, but he’d rather take his chances with the sharks.

 

“You should not hide the way you feel from anyone, most especially yourself. Feelings, they are like flames. Leave them unattended, and you will be immolated by them.”

 

It isn’t really like that, he’s tempted to say. I mean, he’s managed well enough with this ridiculous crush of his for years now. And it’s not like he _didn’t_ know about Dino Cavallone’s peculiar relationship with Hibari, then his student, now a Guardian to an ally of his family. He’s kept up pretty well. Really.

 

…Now, if he can just stop thinking about how Dino looked, when he was screwing Hibari over. He must be _that_ good to get _the_ Cloud Guardian to blush that way. And those fingers, they were so long. How ever could any of his partners manage with those without feeling a little faint?

 

Troublesome, really.

 

“I’ll be fine, Bianchi-san,” he says out loud. “It’s not a big deal.” He could speak to her in Italian but he says it in Japanese instead. Japanese is so much more conducive to ordering one’s thoughts and straightening things out. (It’s not working very well for him, though, but he likes to think that it will, with enough persistence.)

 

Bianchi sets a plate down in front of him, with contents that threaten to shake up the little building blocks of denial in Fuuta’s head.

 

What an interesting shade of purple.

 

“Poison him. It is an honorable method of ending someone’s life.”

 

“That’s not going to solve anything.”

 

“Perhaps you can eat it with him? Suicide can be very romantic, if you let it be.”

 

Fuuta decides that it’s time for a walk.

 **Losing streak.**

The second time is far worse than the first, and it makes Fuuta wish that he wasn’t so professional about things. He could have waited outside of the man’s office quietly – he had been dead set on doing so, at least until Romario had spotted him and gently coaxed him to wait inside for his boss to return. The man had been so nice, hadn’t even blinked or looked curious in the least when Fuuta had timidly inquired on Dino’s whereabouts and if he would be coming home with company.

 

Now Fuuta’s huddled up in a closet – it’s the only place he could have hidden in, the moment he heard the rather suspicious thuds and crashes that marked the progress of two overeager lovers en-route to their final destination. He’s huddled up on the floor, knees drawn up to his body, eyes glued to the crack between the door and the doorframe. It’s like sitting through the worst movie of your life, watching the man you’ve been in love with for the past ten years shove another man against the wall and hold him there, by grinding his hips against his waist. Hearing their breathing, their moans touch the air. Seeing them kiss.

 

When Fuuta sees Dino lift Hibari’s leg over his shoulder and thrust hard into the younger man he feels the very strong urge to shut the door, but if they hear him, he’s as good as dead. He shuts his eyes instead, and realizes, a moment later, that not seeing them makes him think of worse things.

 

It seems like a whole year passes by before the office finally falls silent. Fuuta feels himself relax a little, figures he’ll wait it out until they’re both gone before quietly slipping out. And then the closet door swings wide and Dino’s standing there with his shirt hanging open, pants barely buttoned, smiling just for him.

 

“What can I help you with, Ranking King?”

 

And in Fuuta’s set of basic instincts, there is no fight: only flee.

 **Thieves and liars.**

“You did that on purpose,” Hibari says later, after Fuuta has scrambled out of Dino’s office. Dino crawls over to Hibari from where the latter’s sprawled on the couch (a new one this time, and not nearly as vulnerable to spills and chills as the last). The older man sticks out his tongue, licks the salt and sweat off his former student’s neck.

 

“Your concern is touching.”

 

And, since he knows that Hibari is no good with words, Dino shows his appreciation by taking the younger man by the hilt.

 **The dose makes the poison.**

The third time does not happen because Fuuta is an intelligent young man, and takes pains over the next few months to make sure that he’ll never find himself in such compromising positions ever again. What happens, instead, is a late meeting with the heads of the different families and Dino offering him a ride home, because Tsuna and his Guardians have the shady sort of business to attend to after dinner and where they’re going is no place for a boy Fuuta’s age. What happens, instead, is Fuuta accepting because Dino insists without really saying the words, because Dino has a hand on his arm and is gently pulling him off and it’s going to look really bad if he makes a scene with everyone watching them.

 

Now they’re together in the backseat of Dino’s car and Romario’s at the wheel and Dino is talking about mafia things and Fuuta sort of wishes that he could hurl himself out of the car through the window. He’s weighing the pros and cons of that action when Dino says something that makes him do the one thing he swore he wouldn’t: turn and stare at the man, right into his eyes.

 

“Were you thinking about what it would be like, if you were in Kyouya’s place?”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

 

He meant to sound cold and quietly hostile, but from the way Dino only chuckles and drags a hand through his hair, Fuuta realizes that he didn’t succeed nearly as much as he wanted to.

 

“I just think it’s a little uncanny, how you walked in on us twice.”

 

“Once.”

 

“But you watched the second time anyway.”

 

Now how did Dino get so close? Fuuta doesn’t even remember him moving. And how did that hand wind up on his leg?

 

“…Don’t touch me.”

 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

 

Terribly, terribly long fingers. They’re massaging their way to the inside of his thigh.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

Dino reaches between Fuuta’s legs, and Fuuta promptly forgets all about the fact that he’s supposed to be protesting. Romario brings the glass divider between the front end and the back end of the car straight up because it is sound proof and he would rather concentrate on driving.

 

They’ve gone through a hand job and a blowjob by the time they reach the Vongola Mansion. Dino reverently dresses Fuuta up (a gentleman takes responsibility for his actions, after all) and sends him off with a wink and a pat to the shoulder.

 

“If you want more,” he murmurs with another one of his crooked smiles, “You know where to find me.”

 **Yours till hell freezes.**

Two weeks later, Fuuta does not knock the door to Dino’s office before he enters. He does not blink, when he finds Dino seated at his desk and Hibari straddling him, kissing him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He doesn’t flinch, not really, when Hibari notices him and whips around, tonfa blazing. It takes a small laugh and Dino’s soothing hand to stop the Cloud Guardian from murdering Fuuta.

 

“What can I do for you now, Ranking King?”

 

And Fuuta does what he thought he’d never do.

He undoes the first button of his shirt.


End file.
